


Remedy

by swanqueer_x



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanqueer_x/pseuds/swanqueer_x
Summary: A short SQ story. I used the quote "meet me at my vault" from Series 6 Episode 5 as a prompt for this short story and just went from there. Emma Swan is trapped in a toxic relationship. Regina Mills has hurried to her vault to conjure a spell so that Aladdin can be found. Emma notices her reaction and compares it with her apparent true love's reaction. Emma is angry at herself, at Hook. Regina is there for her. I'm working within canon, but obviously with a large part of the narrative being my own. The way that Regina Mills and Emma Swan look at each other is my fave aesthetic.  remedy; verb 1. set right (an undesirable situation):"money will be given to remedy the poor funding of nurseries" synonyms: set right, rectify, solve, fix, resolve, correct, repair, mend, make good





	

* * *

_"Meet_ _me at my vault.”_

 

That’s what Regina had said, what she had requested, of Emma. So that was where she was going. It had been an hour, so it was time for her to go. She wasn’t sure she was ready. Ready for the softness in the brunette’s eyes, the care that she carried in her every glance at the blonde. But, she could deal with the eyes of her _true love_ ; the accusatory tone of “ _you lied to us_ ” ringing in her ears, the eyebrows that were furrowed and the posture that was aggressive, singed into her brain. That was just how he showed his concern, right? He cared for her deeply, right? He’d do anything for her, right? They were in love, right?

 

_“This happiness is an illusion.”_

 

Fuck. Her own words echoed in her mind. She looked up into the mirror of her yellow bug, her face was withdrawn, the fear, mixed with anger, so explicitly clear in her eyes, bouncing back at her. She wasn’t scared at Hook, but rather at the visions of her death. No, Hook didn’t scare her. He just downright pissed her off. She was sorry ages before Archie outed her, had realised when she first had the visions it wasn’t right to keep them from her family, from Hook, from Regina. _Regina_. Her soft touch and her brown hair. Her long legs and her glowing skin. The sparkling brown eyes and her constant reassurances. The authenticity to everything she said to Emma. The warmth. A distraction, a huge distraction from her _real_ happiness.

 

“ _This happiness is an illusion.”_

 

“Stop it,” she shouted at herself. Pulling into the forest close to the vault, she looked ahead then behind her to check no-one was there, looking at her yelling at herself. _It’s not an illusion. It’s not an illusion. I’m happy. I’m happy._ Her thoughts were screaming at her, telling her how it was. But her eyes knew. They always knew, they stared back at her and told her all she needed to know. She wasn’t happy. She didn’t know when she stopped being happy with Hook. Maybe she never had.

 

_“This happiness is an illusion **.”**_

 

“It is just the visions of my death making me overthink everything, right?” She asked herself, squinting at herself in the reflection. It could be, it wasn’t a huge stretch. But something in her, her superpower, finally emerged to tell her all she needed to know. “I’m lying to myself.” She stated, looking into her green eyes. God, where had all the light gone? She had caught herself once or twice, laughing with Regina, she caught herself with Henry, and her parents too. She glimpsed at herself in her memories, and it was like a snapshot out of a dream. It didn’t feel like her memory. It couldn’t be. How could that light be in her eyes when she looked at Regina? She knew how happy being with Henry made her. But… _Regina_. _Regina fucking Mills._

 

 _“Meet me at my vault_.”

 

The vault. Their first and last slip up. Way back when Robin first called it off with Regina. They’d been in the vault and something had happened. The brunette’s eyes had shouted desire, had shouted necessity, and god Emma had let her. Had let her hand explore her all night long and had melted into the touch. Again and again. Soft and hard and just god damn right. She had wanted every single moment of it in full measure. But it had never happened again. They never spoke about it. How? How did they not? By necessity, of course. By some shared psychic agreement that _it would never work, no one would understand, we are destined to love another, etc, etc_. _Though that last one wasn’t technically correct because Robin was dead now._

Emma shook her head at herself in the mirror.

 _Not a good idea, Swan_. No slip ups. It’s not healthy. _Is it really unhealthy though? When I’m already drowning in visions of my death and my relationship, the true love relationship that is sucking all of the energy out of my very being?_ No, not really. But it is definitely not _fair_. Not _fair_ on Regina. Who has Emma’s back. Who has had it even when she didn’t deserve it and whose past of anger and frustration could so easily morph into the way in which she cares. But it doesn’t. She channels it into helping Emma instead, every goddamn opportunity she gets. And it’s not fair on her because she deserves more than Emma. _She deserves more than me,_ Emma thought.

Emma sighed. God. Regina had asked where she was in the vision. Had acted like, if she wasn’t dead, she would be helping Emma and ensuring she wasn’t killed. And then she hadn’t thought twice about finding a way. She’d teleported immediately. Too fast for Emma to thank her. “I must do that.” She said to herself, nodding to herself in the mirror.

 

_“Meet me at my vault.”_

 

 _"_ Oh, shit.” Emma cursed, unfastening her seat belt and picking up her phone to slide it into her pocket. She’d wasted 10 minutes just by being sat there and fighting a mental battle with herself. She leapt out of the yellow bug and felt the crunch of leaves under her feet as she strolled over to the vault. She looked down at herself to notice her white cotton shirt had unbuttoned at the bottom and had un-tucked itself from her jeans. “Huh,” she declared, buttoning it, feeling the soft fabric and tucking it back into her faded blue-grey jeans.

Taking a deep breath she entered the vault and put her confident face on as she walked down into the clearing where Regina was, standing with a goblet in her hand that was frothing at the top. Emma glanced at her before she spoke. Her tight black dress clung in all the right places, the cropped black blazer she wore matched it perfectly and her hair curled up at the ends. Emma noticed her right eyebrow raise, perhaps an attempt to acknowledge her late-ish entrance, or her obvious staring, or perhaps both. She started to pour a blue liquid into the goblet, which only caused it to froth more, spilling over the stone the goblet was placed on.

“You, uh, took off kinda quickly,” Emma braved, looking up at the brunette whose gaze she was rather scared to meet. Regina looked up at her, brown eyes collided with green and Emma almost melted at the care, the worry mixed with pure determination in them.

“Well, I’m sorry but I’m trying to save your life.” She sassed, her voice, though harsh, spoke the absolute truth and the intense need to help Emma. This is what they had built. Friends. Nothing more, nothing less, right? _Well apart from that one time,_ Emma’s mind teased. Emma nodded.

“Yeah, um, thanks for that, by the way,” she replied, making it sound more like an afterthought than she had intended it to be. Regina smiled subtly and placed the goblet down. Her eyes shot up at Emma’s again and she stepped slightly closer as she asked, “how’s Henry?” and quickly before Emma could reply, she added “how are you?”

 

Three fucking words:

 

“How are you?”

 

Enough for her to implode from the inside out. The care. The love. It was too much. She was far too undeserving of it, too submerged in her own recent bout of self-loathing to really know what she ever did for this formidable woman to care for her so much. When their friendship first came to light, Emma was proud of herself for accepting Regina’s dark past, proud that they could look past the intertwining of their own stories, proud that she had shown her she cared and proud Regina did in return. But not now. It had been a gradual change. The woman she envied was in-fact herself a few years ago. The woman who yes, built up walls, but who knew how to trust herself, who let people in but didn’t let them walk all over her.

But over time, her relationship with Hook had just worn her down. She’d grown to accept that _yes, this is love I deserve_ and that _true love is happiness_ so _I must_ be happy. And here, the brunette was. Eager for her answer, the softness in her words and the intensity to them, just setting all the alarm bells off in Emma’s head. Those thoughts of _I’m not good enough for her_ and _I don’t deserve this_. For the first time in ages, Emma decided to accept the truth, and that it should be spoken. _I am not okay. I am not happy_.

“Not good.” She replied, her gaze slipping from Regina’s face, too scared to see the reaction. To see the shift. The shift of intensity from caring to the determination of finding the source of what was wrong. Regina let out a long sigh. She walked up to Emma and took her hand, placing it in-between both of her palms.

One of her hands reached up and cupped Emma’s face. Emma stepped back slightly, her immediate reaction whenever Regina showed her affection like this. “Look at me, dear.” She commanded. But softly, ever so softly.

Emma looked up, feeling stupid, knowing that there were tears in her eyes. They were hard to contain when she admitted the truth. Regina’s hand dropped and cupped Emma’s hand again. “I’m not going to deny that I wasn’t a little angry that you kept your visions to yourself,” she began, “but I understand why you did. Completely. And now that we know, me, your family, and…” she stopped, looking away from Emma, “and _Hook_ , we will go to the end of the earth to ensure that your vision doesn’t happen.”

Emma hung onto every word. Was silent for a moment letting them sink in. Replaying the subtle sigh before the “and Hook” in her head and circling Regina’s soft palm with her index finger.

“Why were you angry?” Emma asked, unsure as how to even answer. She cursed herself for opening up in the first place.

“Because, dear, I could have started to help you earlier. Why do you ask?” Her brown eyes were on Emma again. Emma’s gaze slipped, as she looked down at her hand sandwiched in-between Regina’s. Regina noticed and started to move them away when Emma let out a disapproving grunt and said, “no, keep them there.”

Regina frowned, understandingly slightly confused, but placed her hands back to where they were. Emma felt the comforting warmth of them once again, aware she hardly let her touch last this long. But right now, she wanted something that felt _right_ , that made her feel _whole_ again. No matter what the implications of that were.

Emma looked up to Regina, her gaze still fixed to Emma. “I ask because, because Hook is angry with me. _Again_. And I don’t think he’s angry because he would have helped earlier. I think he’s angry because he thinks I don’t trust him.”

“And do you?” Regina asked, “trust him?”

“Yes.” Emma replied, without thinking. Silence fell between them. _You’re lying_. A voice said. Emma shook her head, glancing to the floor and back up to Regina. “No.”

Regina shook her head, sighed and made a grumbling sound in her throat. “That’s not exactly surprising, considering the way that he reacts half of the time.”

Emma felt her herself staring wide-eyed at the beautiful woman hovering in-front of her. _Stop with the puppy eyes, Swan._ She told herself.

“What do you mean?” she questioned.

“Well,” Regina began, her mouth forming a smile, “it’s like I said before. You’re too good for Hook.”

 

_“You’re too good for Hook.”_

 

Emma laughed, shaking her head. She wasn’t. _This is the love I deserve. True love is happiness._ “I’m really not too good for him.”

Regina frowned, and started laughing. “I’m sorry, but who are you and what have you done with Emma Swan?”

Emma tried to smile but couldn’t fake it. She felt deflated.

“You’re really being serious?” Regina questioned. Emma nodded in return and Regina let go of Emma’s hands and pulled two chairs out from the opposite end of the room.

“Sit.” She gestured, placing Emma’s chair directly in-front of hers. Emma nodded and fell down into the chair.

“I’m sorry for laughing.” Regina announced. Emma shook her head and leant on her knees with her elbows, looking up and meeting Regina’s eye-contact again. “You don’t have to apologise for anything Regina. Never again. Not to me. For anything.”

Regina’s eyebrows raised as she shuffled, placing her elbow on the chair. Her arm moved up, her hand cupped her face. She leaned in. “What are you talking about?”

The blonde frowned. She hadn’t really prepared for a conversation like this. But here she was. “I just mean, this. What you’re doing right now.” She gestured to her sitting down, then to the goblet that was still frothing on the stone pillar. “I don’t know what I did to deserve it. To deserve you.”

“Emma, you made me your friend. By trusting in me, for believing in me. I’m only returning the favour, really. For our son, for me, and of course for you. Because I consider you someone that I can trust. Someone that I care for. Not by necessity but because I just do.” Regina’s face was plastered with a smile. She meant it. With every ounce of her being, she meant it.

Emma cringed at the words. Their truth. Their warmth. Their care. The face that read: I am here. A remedy she wasn't sure she was ready for.

“I know you, Emma.” Regina added. “This isn’t just because you think you may die, is it? This isn’t just because you think Hook doesn’t trust you? It’s something more.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t really…I uh, I only just let myself realise something. I’m not happy.”

As the last sentence rolled off her tongue, her mouth suddenly felt dry, her hands sweaty and her heart started to pound in her chest. Whoever said that ‘ _sharing is caring_ ’? _Fuck those dickheads_.

“Because of Hook?” Regina asked, “or because you think you’re going to die? Because I can at least promise that I’m not gonna let that happen.”

 

_“I’m not gonna let that happen.”_

 

Her own words to Regina.

“Both, honestly,” Emma admitted, _and also because I want to kiss your soft lips like we did down here when you and Robin split up. Because I want to feel you against me and forget all of the god damn pain in my life right now. Because if this is the love I deserve I don’t want it. If this is true love I don’t want it. I want you,_ her mind rudely added.

 _Stop. Stop. Stop. Can’t think this. Mustn’t think this._ Her mind burst with feelings undeclared. _A distraction. A distraction from her real happiness._ The contradiction in her own words was clear. She wasn’t happy, so why was she forcing herself anyway? What did she get from her true love relationship? And why on earth was she calling the constant in her life a distraction?

 

 _It’s a terrible love and I’m walking with spiders_.

_What the fuck, Swan? Where are those lyrics from and why are they in your mind?_

 

Emma looked up at Regina who looked as though she was trying to pick apart her brain. “Sorry. Lost in thought. I’m not happy with Hook. But every time I let that in, even if just for a second, I feel like my entire world, everything I’ve built, will just come tumbling down. But at the same time, I feel like a part. Half, not full or whole. Half. And if this is what true love is, what having a soul mate is, then I don’t think I want it. I’m sorry.”

Regina shook her head, her eyes were starting to pool with tears. “Why are you sorry?”

Emma instantly started crying the moment she saw tears pool in Regina’s eyes. “Because I shouldn’t be telling you this. Be giving you this responsibility.”

“What responsibility?” Regina questioned. Emma was unsure as to why all of a sudden she was questioning in this way. But she answered anyway.

“By being the one who,” she stopped, reached over and pawed at Regina’s hands to place them in her lap, “by being the only one, besides Henry, who I feel _whole_ , or at least _me_ around. I’m really fucking sorry.”

Regina’s whole posture seemed to morph and shift, an invisible armour that was everything but invisible to Emma. Emma could literally witness the change in her, a split second one that she could see right through.

“True love shouldn’t make you feel like that, Emma,” she began, “if you feel like that, it isn’t true love. Even if some test proved it. But I have no right to tell you that, and I, um, think I need to continue with the spell. It’s a locator spell. I might have to restart the process. We have left it for a whil-”

“Regina.” Emma cut in. “Don’t do that. Please. I, I didn’t want to freak you out. I’m sorry.”

“Miss Swan, don’t you dare apologise to me. Don’t.” Regina spat it out, she was visibly emotional but had not removed her hands from Emma’s lap.

Emma squirmed at the Miss Swan usage, it infuriated her, but she was more concerned as to why she wasn’t permitted to apologise. “Why not, Regina?” she questioned.

“Because you’re acting like _you’re_ the one who doesn’t deserve the other,” she exclaimed, her voice raised, “I’m doing this for you because you deserve it. Don’t you _dare_ tell me that you don’t. And don’t you _dare_ say that you aren’t good enough for Hook. He should bow down to you every time you so much as grace him with your presence. You were outed, but putting that to one side, you finally tell everyone about your vision, and he _pouts_ in the corner. _Pouts_. Then you have the _audacity_ , the _audacity_ to imply that him not trusting you is your fault?!”

Regina was visibly furious, her face was red and her hands had moved out of Emma’s lap and were instead in her hair. But, there was something holding her back. A softness to her anger that was just… different.

Emma, infuriated at Hook but most of all herself, stood up and exclaimed, “it is _my_  fault. I’m not good enough for him. I’m not. It’s the reason that this isn’t working. Because I god damn cannot stop my mind from wandering sometimes, like right now. When I look at you I see this infuriatingly gorgeous woman. Who I’ve touched a lot, in this very room, who wanted me like _that_ once but never again. Who I’ve never spoken to about _that_ and who didn’t speak about it in return. Because we both god damn know that it _can’t_ happen and it _won’t_ and it’s so infuriatingly unfair that sometimes I just want to fucking scream.”

Regina stood up and approached Emma. She looked as though she was going to yell, but her eyes with fire deep within mellowed out as she reached nearer to Emma. She straightened her dress out, smiled sadly and enclosed her arms around Emma.

 _I just melted into her arms,_ Emma thought, as she fell into Regina’s arms and realised that this was the first time they had properly hugged. She smelt like the outside, but her cinnamon-apple scent radiated from her and her arms felt so warm.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” Regina whispered into her ear, “I don’t want to be like him.”

Emma could have sworn her heart shattered into pieces. _I don’t want to be like him._

She shook her head and leaned out of the hug to look into Regina’s eyes. “You will never, ever, be like him. Regina. Never.”

“But I shouted at you,” she replied.

“And I shouted back. Plus, we didn’t, we don’t just shout, we reach somewhere. An impasse. With him it’s just a lot of shouting, no resolve and then, well…”

“Ugh,” Regina spat, removing herself from Emma’s arms, “do not continue with that, I will throw up all over my nice dress.”

“Yeah it is a really nice dress,” Emma replied, smiling a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I like what you’re wearing too,” Regina replied, glancing at her, “and your hair’s grown.”

“And yours has shortened. Magic or hairdressers?” Emma questioned.

“Finally, someone notices. Hairdressers.” Regina replied.

 

Emma smiled, then returned to the seat, slumping down and sighing.

Regina looked over curiously at her, and followed, sitting across from her once more. “So I guess, that roughly translates as, ‘Regina I’d like to talk about what happened down here between us’?”

Emma shrugged, and sighed once again. “I don’t know, I mean, I do in theory. But then I probably won’t like the reality. But everything’s pretty lousy at the moment anyway, so why not?”

“Is it really best, Emma? You’re angry at Hook, you’ve seen visions of your death… I can obviously see that you are distressed. I don’t want to add to that.”

 _“I don’t want to add to that.”_  

 _Fuck_ , Emma thought. “There you go again,” Emma stated, shaking her head, “worrying about me. Caring.”

“Would you prefer I didn’t?” Regina queried, frowning.

“Yes.” Emma answered, but then shook her head. _No. I like that you care for me. I just don’t seem to know how to handle that anymore._

Regina’s eyebrows raised, but before she could comment, Emma announced, “no. But yes. Agh, I don’t know. It would sure make life a hell of a lot easier, I’d feel less guilty, I suppose.”

Regina shook her head, her face plastered into a permanent frown. “Guilty about what?”

“You. Us. What would have happened if you had never got back with Robin? If we’d spoken about it like adults? If I wasn’t with Hook?” Emma asked, the questions swirling around her brain. Once you _noticed_ the wounds, you couldn’t help but really _notice_ them and really prod them, and ask yourself what could have prevented them.

Regina scoffed, but her eyes were soft. Delicate. “There’s no point in talking about what ifs, dear. It is what it is. I suppose if Robin and I hadn’t made our way back to each other, then my life would be different than it is right now. And if you weren’t with Hook, I suppose that you would probably be a lot happier, and healthier. But, I did get back with Robin. Though, he did die. And you are still with Hook, clearly unhappy. But it’s not really my place to say you should change that.”

Emma watched her as she said this, could almost witness the cogs in her mind turning and twisting and trying to work around the concepts of _true love_ and _soulmates_ seen as Emma had made it aware she didn’t want that anymore. She looked beautiful. She looked regal still, but vulnerable, like this conversation was opening her mind too. _Selfish_. _This was selfish of me,_ Emma thought.

In a stupid, stupid split second Emma Swan abandoned the little impulse control she did have by leaning across to place her hands on Regina. But not on the dress or on her arms. Not in a sensible place. Because, she was Emma fucking Swan and she didn’t control herself or think much before she spoke sometimes.

Her hands were in-fact now suddenly between Regina Mills' legs before she had any control over where they were going and why. Regina’s breath hitched as Emma looked up and asked, “but what if I wasn’t with him?”

Emma’s eyes darkened and Regina tried and failed to gulp quietly. She had every right to toss Emma out of the vault by her ear but she didn’t. She just cupped Emma’s hands, squeezed at them for a second and then placed them back into Emma’s lap, softly.

“But you are.” Regina replied sadly, her eyes brimming with an ocean of emotion.

 

 _Regina fucking Mills just might love me_.

 

 _There_ , Emma thought. _I’ve admitted it to myself. It wasn’t just care, it wasn’t just worry, or determination_. Regina Mills looked at her like it fucking _hurt_ sometimes and it entered her chest and she found herself sobbing into her lap.

“Oh, Emma,” Regina soothed, her voice smooth like caramel as it entered her ears. She was suddenly really close. Emma felt her body being hoisted out of the seat, and she instead fell into a warm lap, cocooned by warm arms.

“You smell really good,” Emma sniffled into Regina, feeling a lot like the girl she used to be. _Lost, isolated_ _and_ _unwanted_. But never with Regina. She always felt wanted with her. Why had she not let herself notice that?

Regina snorted and ran her hands through Emma’s blonde locks.

“Thank you, I suppose.”

“Look, Emma,” Regina began, her voice shaking slightly. Her voice hardly wavered like this and Emma knew to listen intently, it was obviously going to be important.

“I cannot look into my past and think what if that happened, what if this didn’t. I cannot. Robin was a huge part of my life. If he wasn’t dead, we would probably still be together. But, despite that…what I am about to confess, it will complicate things. So stop me, before I go on.” Regina sighed.

Emma shook her head, still leaning into Regina. “No, I already said. Everything’s kind of shitty anyways so you might as well go on. I know it is selfish of me, sorry.”

“What did I say about the apologies, Emma? I don’t want to hear them. You don’t need to apologise to me, dear. But…okay. I will continue. When we…when we were down here and that happened, it felt… I don’t know. It should have been like an act of rebellion to smite true love and soulmates, that may have been what I thought I initiated it for. But honestly I didn’t think it through enough to realise that. But I realised, after, that I’d never…I’d never felt anything like that. It, you, it felt so…so…”

Emma cut in, looking back up at the brunette who was almost glowing.

“Right.” She added, smiling and slightly hopeful.

“Yeah.” Regina smiled a big-wide smile then closed her mouth quickly and then added, “you too?”

“Me too.” Emma nodded, wiping her tears and sitting up, feeling a bit like a pathetic baby. _I am Emma fucking Swan. I don’t sniffle_. “So while it may have been a bit of a rebellious act, I think it was probably more than that, deep down. And I guess, I guess that’s why we had some form of synonymous mental agreement to never discuss it.”

Regina looked down, then back up at Emma. Emma tilted her head and replied. “I kinda figured we thought whatever it was, was a mistake, or something. Something no-one would understand but us, and even we would have a hard time understanding it, or maybe there was nothing to understand and I was just an itch to be scratched, and whatever it was wouldn’t work out; we were destined to love another, blah blah, blah blah.”

“You aren’t an itch to be scratched, not now not ever. You are worth so much more than that and I am astounded that I even have to tell you that.” She paused for a second then blurt out,

“I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, Emma. You, you were not one of them.”

It was out of Regina’s lips so fast, like she hadn’t even needed to consider it for one second. It was so natural. Until Regina brought one hand to her lips and mentally kicked herself for saying it.

Emma shook her head and smiled. She brought her hand to Regina’s and pulled it across to her mouth. Looking up at her as she brought the hand to her lips, she kissed it. Then placed it down and lent across slowly moving closer to Regina. Regina’s breath hitched, slightly like before. But she didn’t retort. Emma gave her opportunity to, but she didn’t. She melted into her as their lips touched.

Emma saw rays of light, purple, blue and pink explode from under her eyelids. Her skin didn’t feel like her own. It actually didn’t feel like it existed at all. She felt weightless, free, and like she had stopped using her lungs to breathe. Her face felt wet and as she prolonged the soft-to-hard to soft-to-hard kiss, she opened one of her eyes to see Regina’s tears, to see her own and the intensity of the kiss. It was as though her magic was flowing into Regina and hers into Emma’s. Though she was sure this wasn’t what was happening due to her recent problems, it felt like it anyway. They weren’t just exploring each other’s mouths. They were exploring those deep repressed feelings within each other. One of those feelings was one she felt last time, that one which told her everything felt _right_. But it wasn’t Regina that made Emma feel whole. No, she had got that wrong, she didn’t complete her because she wasn’t a part of anything. She was whole without anyone else; she was whole, and most especially when she admitted to herself her true feelings. And so what if Regina wasn’t her true love because to hell with feeling unhappy and trapped and lonely and isolated. She was Emma fucking Swan and nobody could take that away from her. But the insecurity of I’m not good enough still prodded at her.

“Emma,” Regina sobbed, releasing herself from the kiss. “We can’t.” She stated, sadly. “It’s not right. You’re vulnerable right now. You’re confused. You don’t know what you want.”

“I do know what I want.” Emma stated. “I want you. I don’t want Hook. I don’t, not anymore anyway and I don’t know why I have dealt with it for so long. Even if he is my true love. If I’m going to die, Regina, I want the last moments to be spent with the people who matter. You’re part of that. But, I still don’t deserve it. And this isn’t fair on you, honestly. I can’t expect you to just _want_ me. You’ve only just got over Robin, you’re dealing with your other self, the Queen, and I…”

“You dropped it.” Regina stated. Her face hopeful.

“What?” Emma asked, unsure as to what exactly she’d done.

“I don’t like the E word. And you dropped it.” Regina replied, her eyes tearful.

Emma realised that she’d done it without thinking. “Oh, uh…yeah.”

“How can you say you don’t deserve it, Emma?” Regina shook her head, disbelieving. “But anyway, I make my own choices. I decide what is fair. I decide what I deserve and if I sit here and tell you it’s you, it’s you. Robin is dead and there is nothing I can do about that. I know how to deal with my loved ones dying on me, but I prefer not to. And I don’t feel like another should die. I don’t want you to die. I won’t let it happen.”

Emma let the words sink in. _So_ _she_ _thinks_ _I_ _deserve it, deserve her. And what, does that mean she definitely does want me? I’m a loved one? She doesn’t want me to die. She doesn’t want me to die. Her reaction was to help right away while Hook sulked in the corner. He is supposed to love me and all he cared about was how I lied to him. They aren't even worth comparing. Regina would win outright if it was a matter of first and last._

 

“ _Love_ _is_ _sacrifice_.”

 

“Love is sacrifice.” Emma blurted out, then went onto explain when Regina’s eyebrows raised in response. “We have both sacrificed so much for each other. Kinda cute, isn’t it?” Her voice played jokingly and Regina pushed her off her lap playfully, and she fell into the chair opposite.

“Oh shush,” Regina replied, her voice teasing.

“I’m being serious,” Emma laughed. Maybe it was the cold, maybe because she might die, maybe because Hook was a dickhead, maybe it was the fact they’d just admitted feelings never spoken before, or maybe because she damn just wanted Regina fucking Mills on her lap, she gestured to her lap.

“Come here,” she requested. Regina looked slightly unsure, but stepped over anyway and gazed into the blonde’s green eyes.

_“Love is layered; a mystery to be uncovered.”_

 

Maybe her love for Regina was so deeply buried that she never realised it was there. She realised it now. She didn’t care what the implications of it were. Maybe she didn’t deserve it but the other woman didn’t seem to care. Maybe it was unfair on Hook but when had his treatment of her ever been fair? Maybe it was idealistic at best to think a relationship could happen between her and the brunette.

Maybe. Just maybe.

But maybe it would work out and she and Regina wouldn’t die and maybe everyone would understand and maybe it would all be okay. Maybe this would be her remedy.

And as she took in the brunette’s cinnamon apple scent, as she submerged into the brown eyes that were deep and thoughtful, as she marvelled at the colours bursting behind her eyelids, as she melted into the arms around her that were accommodating rather than suffocating, she realised that maybe, just maybe she could become the woman she once was, like a flower bursting to life in the sweet remedy of spring, remembering the harsh frost of the winter, but growing, shooting out from the ground and reaching infinite heights.


End file.
